


Insatiable

by Moth1988



Category: Sam & Max (Comics)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Begging, Come as Lube, Comfort Sex, Crying, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pet Names, Post-Coital Cuddling, Praise Kink, Resolved Sexual Tension, Scent Kink, Sexual Frustration, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:35:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29930760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moth1988/pseuds/Moth1988
Summary: After Spring comes early, Max is left an insatiable mess.
Relationships: Max/Sam (Sam & Max)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 96





	Insatiable

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't had much time to write lately because of my new job, but I will absolutely try my best for you guys! I promise I'm not going anywhere anytime soon! ❤️
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy! 💕💕

When Sam came home late that night, Max hadn't been too worried. I mean, it was just like the guy to get distracted on the way back, and as the hours tick by, he just watched TV to pass the time.

There's nothing good on, never is, but it's enough of a distraction that he ain't watching the clock anymore.

He'd kissed him goodbye when he left, promising to be back soon and leaving the smell of tobacco and coffee on his skin when he ruffled his fur and said he missed him already.

He swears; Sam's made him _soft_ , all gooey and disgustingly warm on the inside when Sam leaves the ghosting feel of his hands on his fur.

Guy always had been a hell of a tease, hadn't he? Swears he finds some sick pleasure in leaving Max flustered and waiting for him.

But maybe that's a part of fun, and he ain't gonna lie and say he doesn't enjoy it.

The breeze helps, a bit. Only enough so that he doesn't feel as though he's sweltering any more. It's far too hot for it being Spring out, though maybe that's just him.

He never did love spring, pollen in the air making him all warm and stuffy, no matter how cool the warm air got.

Didn't help that Sam chose this time of all of them to run errands, leaving him home alone to ruminate in his own lingering frustration.

Or maybe he's just dramatic; ain't Sam's fault spring came early, afterall.

* * *

It doesn't help, but he's so desperate he can't see straight. It feels just good enough that he doesn't fucking _care_ that it ain't gonna help.

Besides, Sam ain't gotta know he's delved so low, throttling a pillow between his legs, muffling needy moans behind his shaking hands as he pushes into it.

He's shaking so bad, door locked behind him and hoping to god they've got some other pillow stored somewhere so Sam never notices. It still smells like him, just like the heady scent lingering ontop of his fur. Like tobacco smoke and ink, making his dick twitch at the thought alone.

"Fuck, _fuck_ ," He groans, grateful the guy's not around to hear him get so loud. He just can't help it, can't keep himself quiet as he pushes into the thing.

" _Pleeeease_ ," He whimpers, hands covering his face. "C'mon, _ahh_!" He groans, the persistent warmth in his stomach all encompassing, tight and undeniably desperate.

It never got this bad, never did until Sam left the lingering smell of his fur on him. It's all he can think about, whimpering his partner's name under his breath. Prick, almost like he wanted to see him suffer.

" _Pleeease_ , I'm--" He groans, biting hard into his palm. " _Fuck_!"

He cums, again, but it only helps for a moment or two before he's aching again.

It fucking hurts, and he's tearing up before he realizes. Because god, nothing helps, and he's just as insatiable as before as he throws the pillow aside. It thumps against the ground, and he falls back against the bed, sheets only barely cooling his heated skin.

There's no relief, no satiating himself no matter what he does.

He wants to scream, or cry, or something, but he just sits up, back against the pillows when he curls into himself, foot thumping in frustration against the covers.

It just hurts, this kind of insatiable ache throbbing in his middle, fur tinted pink in the face and the tips of his ears. Looks like he's got one hell of a fever, and nothing he does can break it.

He quietly whimpers to himself, tugging at his ears for the grounding sting of it.

He can't think straight, hardly even hears the door open.

Cursing, he hops down and quickly stashes the discarded thing under the bed, hearing the front door shut outside.

He takes in a few steeling breaths, resolving to open the door himself before Sam can do the same. He steps out, glaring at his partner in nothing more than knotted frustration.

" _Prick_..."

His partner doesn't take offense, patting his head and being damn lucky Max doesn't bite his hand. "Awh, waitin' up for me, lil' buddy?"

The jerk knows what he's doing, in all of his self-satisfied glory. "You teasin' me or somethin'? This _funny_ to you?" The bite in his words are dulled by the persistent flush in his face, sneering at him like Sam's insulted his mother. "You have a sick sense of humor, Sam."

The detective's expression goes soft, almost sympathetic, like he's guilted him enough to feel bad. "I'm sorry. I know you ain't feelin' the best, doll." He kisses his head, soft in apology, and the he feels the ghosting of his hips on his fur seconds after he pulls away. "I wasn't gone for that long, was I?"

He huffs, glaring daggers at the floor. "Felt like _hours_."

His partner, taking his everloving sweet time, shrugs the dull grey coat from his shoulders, hanging it on the rack and tugging his tie loose. "C'mon, doll, ya act like I abandoned you or somethin'. You could've come with me."

"Ya _know_ I can't, would'a bitten somebody's head off."

Sam chuckles, taking the time to crack a few more windows open, letting the smell of the city linger in the room. He can practically smell the gut-wrenching diner food from here, but he ain't very hungry. He feels far too stuffy to even think about eating right now, though the empty feeling in his gut makes itself known. Food ain't exactly what's on his mind right now. "My poor lil' bunny." His partner chuckles.

" _Sam_ ," He meant for it to sound threatening, like a warning, but it comes out as more of a whine than he would like.

He can't say why today's worse than the others, though it may be part in due to Sam's smooth tongue and knack for teasing the everloving hell out of him. Either way, each passing second reminds him of why he despises spring.

"Use your words, little buddy."

He ain't one to beg, and his fragile pride refuses to let him, no matter how tempting it is. A few nice, docile words and Sam's putty in his hands, but he ain't gonna grovel to get what he wants.

Besides, it ain't that bad yet, spring only came a good few days ago.

He stays silent, glaring at him with as his foot thoughtlessly thumps against the desk. Kind of gives him away, in afterthought, but it ain't like he can control it. Definitely doesn't help his case, though, as his partner chuckles and ruffles the fur on his head.

He can't quite bring himself to be mad at the guy, though, not when he smiles like that and not when his hands are so mortifyingly comforting.

He must give it away on his face, as Sam leans up against the desk next to him to keep petting him. "You are so damn lucky I love you." He grumbles, only eliciting another laugh and a continuing soft touch.

"Love you, too, little pal." He leans down to kiss his cheek. "Awh, you're purrin'."

"Call me ' _cute_ ' and I'll bite you." He doesn't deny it, though, leaning into the welcome touch and already denying the fact that he nuzzles against his hand. He can't help it, it feels too nice. He grabs onto his hand, dragging it to his face and pressing it against his cheek.

He usually ain't one to be so shamelessly needy, but his sense of self-preservation has gone right out of the window with the touch.

He can't remember the last time he purred like that, always hated it, but hating the sound that rumbles out of him is hard when Sam likes it so much. He only gets another kiss on the head for the quip, and the face on his hand pets at his cheek, chuckling when he rubs his face against his hand. "How ya feelin', doll?"

"Weird, I dunno," He presses the hand closer to his face, eyes fluttering shut as he tries to focus in on the feeling. " _Warm_."

He hears a thoughtful hum, and to the guy's credit, he doesn't tease him for it. "Gettin' any better? Or is the whole uh," He trails off, like he's searching for a word that's less hard hitting than 'heat'. He never much liked the term, neither, but peaking and eye open and watching his partner fluster makes him feel a bit better about it. "Y'know, the _thing_ , gettin' bad?"

He snickers. "Lil' bit, 's better, but you always make things better."

With a sly wink, his partner's smiling again, running his thumb across the dense fur. "Doll, don't go gettin' soft on me now." His voice is just as soft as his touch, and he can't help but go red at the fondness in his tone.

"Don't blame me, Sam; it's the pollen talkin'."

The air feels thick, thicker than it should when Sam looks at him, air smelling of the familar dust of the office and faint honey-sweet of spring. His paw's shake, and he clasps them together, trying to still the flutter in his stomach that's been there for days. Butterflies turn into something sharper, more heated when he looks into those doe-like eyes and tries to keep the shivering at bay. He's anything but cold, though he's not sure if the heat is preferable.

"Sweet thing, ya look a _mess_."

He tries not to shiver at the tone, feeling his legs drawn together against irritating warmth. "Rude, Sam."

Another warm laugh. "You're the prettiest guy on this side of the canal, Max, y'know I ain't sayin' otherwise. I just don't like seein' ya hurting."

"I'm okay, Sam, promise. You know how it is, it'll go away eventually."

The answer doesn't seem to satisfy him, and he can't say he's much different. Sam's always been something of a worry-wart, now's no different as he looks over his face.

Usually, springtime brought locking himself in the bathroom for a couple hours, finding halfway relief in his own hand and hoping it was good enough that he could sleep at night, but as Sam gives another thoughtful hum, _kisses_ him, suddenly the thought feels dreadful. Not as good as what's infront of him, kissing him til' he sees stars.

He tastes better than whatever the hell he even imagined heaven to be like, so good, like strong black coffee and that liquorice shit Sam's always had a taste for. He still itches for something more, though, when strong, firm hands fall to his hips and pulls him closer. He picks him up easy, setting him ontop of the desk before he's kissing him again. Like a movie, the mortifyingly sappy thought crosses his mind, and he realizes why Sam's always loved those cheesy rom-coms. Guy has a hell of a talent for making him all softy and gooey on the inside, moreso than the air ever could.

He lets out a sigh he didn't even know he was holding out against his lips. His fur stands on end, and he shivers when he feels a hand leave his hip, drawing his knees apart. "This okay, doll?"

Holding back the urge to delve into begging for it, he nods, gasping into his lips and tugging at his shirt to pull him closer. "Mhm," Is the only thing he can manage to gasp out, an almost painful pang of _want_ hot in his core.

"Good, good..." He trails off for a second or two, drawing his legs apart and looking at what's already peaking out and dripping between them. "Oh, wow, you ain't kiddin', huh?"

He hisses at the cold air, resisting the urge to shy away. "I uh... _yes_ \--" He stammers out, and Sam rubs a hand across his thigh, comforting the biding, near overwhelming warmth.

"'S okay, love, I've gotcha. Doin' okay?"

He can't get out much past the stifling desperation, much other than a soft " _Please_ ," That he'd deny to the grave.

Sam, in his unending well of patience, kisses the top of his head with a quiet understanding and lets his hand trail further up his thigh. "Always, love."

He can't help it when a gasp makes its way out of him as Sam wraps his hand around him, feeling himself go tense and biting back a groan. He bucks his hips, pressing himself into Sam's hand with a few shuffles of his hips.

He already knows he ain't gonna last long, not when Sam moves his hand with such a skilled precision that it's a wonder he ain't changed career paths yet.

"My sweet lil' bunny," He murmers fondly, eliciting a sharp little whine. "Doin' _so_ good."

His hips stutter against his will, little gasps and groans muffled by his hand as he tries in vain to delay the inevitable. "Sam, I'm--" He gets out, before he's moaning his name without shame, bucking his hips a final time as he cums into his hand.

But it ain't enough, and he's tense once again as his partner kneels in-between his legs, placing a soft kiss on his knee. "It's okay," He says, predicting every thought whirling around in Max's hazy, half-coherent mind, not questioning the fact that he's still hard. "Just relax, doll, I'll take care of ya."

He lets out an embarassing and high-pitched yelp when Sam kisses at the inside of his thigh, nose brushing just against his skin as he wiggles in place.

"Now hold still, Max," He says, holding at his hips once again, keeping him in place.

"I'm _trying_ , but it's hard, Sam!" He huffs, impatience making his fur feel all stiff.

"That a pun?" He hears a little laugh, but Sam doesn't leave him much time to answer when he kisses the tip, breaths warm against him. "I know, doll, just breathe." He wants to push closer against him, beg him until his voice is hoarse, but the firm hands on his hips keep him as grounded as he can be.

For days, nearly a week now, he's been insatiable. He's never been desperate like this, not nearly as bad, not until spring came and rendered him helpless each year. Gets so bad that it _hurts_ , so bad that his own shaky hands don't help much past temporary relief. And it hurts _now_ , so bad he's near tearing up in relief when Sam finally takes him in his mouth, tongue soft and indescribably gentle when he does.

" _Ngh, Sam_ ," He gasps out, one hand clawing at the desk and the other to Sam's face, stroking at the fur on his cheeks. "Fuck, _please_."

He's so gentle when he flicks his tongue against him, letting him move his hips just enough to press into the warm feeling. The words tumbling out of his mouth are incoherent, a fumbling of curses and Sam's name whimpered out amongst pleas for him to keep going.

He feels like he's melting on the inside, a far more pleasant experience than he could have imagined as he wiggles underneath strong hands and begs him for more.

It's no surprise when he's cumming again, watching with fuzzy vision as Sam smiles up at him and swallows down the mess.

"Fuck, you're..." He breathes out between gasps for air, petting his lover's cheek. "You're _amazin_ '."

"Thanks, doll." He gets in response, and the guy leans up to kiss his cheek. "So are you, love. Uh," His gaze wanders between his legs, and Max has to resist the urge to pull him close by the collar and kiss him until he can't anymore, but that wouldn't help either of them. He's heard that oxygen deprivation just ain't the best way to go, and he ain't about to go dying now when it's getting good. "Keep goin'?"

He nods, claws digging marks into the wood beneath his paws. "Yes, please."

He kisses him again then, sweet and yielding when Max wraps his arms around his neck to tug him closer, shivering more than he'd care to admit. He's breathless in every sense of the word, holding on tight when he hears the telltale sound of a buckle being undone, hearing the guy grunt against his lips when he pulls himself out.

The benefit of this whole thing is that at least they don't gotta use any help, so to speak, enough wetness dripping in-between his legs to keep the pain of it at bay.

Not like he'd brag about it, but the guy's big enough to really hurt if he'd like to, but being the softy he is, he's horrifically gentle as he presses himself inside. Usually, he'd spend near twenty minutes or so getting him ready, despite his desperation-fueled insistence, but he's more than grateful that Sam's speeding things up. He doesn't think he could sit through that; he'd probably go mad with lust, honestly, so he doesn't mind the sting of it when he pushes himself inside.

" _Fuck_ ," He whines, whimpering and hiding his face in Sam's shirt. It's so good, better than anything he's felt before; feels like his insides are melting out in the best way, hearing Sam grunt in his ear when he reaches the hilt. "Sammy, _please_."

The whiny beg is enough for Sam to take him by his hips, lifting him up and back down again. "I know, doll. 'S okay, I've gotcha." His sweet husband kisses the top of his head, comforting when he keeps the steady motion going, in and out. Feels so good that he's tearing up, sniffling and moaning loud all the same.

He's been aching so bad, but as Sam kisses away the tears of pure relief, he knows he's never loved someone so much in his life. He holds him close, murmering sweet things in his ear as he pushes in deep again.

"Don't cry, love. I know the season hurts ya, but gosh, you're doin' so good for me." He kisses his cheek, nuzzling at the spot. "My sweet lil' bunny, always doin' so good. Does it feel okay?" He nods, feverish when he gasps again.

He doesn't know why he's crying, some amalgamation of overwhelming pleasure and this feverish adoration for him. It's so much, and he's so good at it, too. So understanding as he pushes in to the hilt and stays there, long enough to kiss him and taste the salty tears. His tongue laps against his own, pushing him against the desk but keeping him upright with the paws resting on his lower back. Max spreads his legs for him, shivering and purring when Sam takes him in his hand, soft and slow as he strokes him. His legs fold around him, toes curling. "F-feels ah," He gasps, bucking up into his hand as those dark eyes watch him. So, so pretty. "S- _so_ good, doesn't hurt anymore."

He earns a little chuckle, and Sam kisses one last time at his dampened cheek before he's pulling out and going back in again. "Did it hurt, love? 'M sorry. Was I bein' too rough?"

He shakes his head. "No, no, you're _perfect_. Just that time a' the season, y'know? Always hurts," He bites back another groan. "But you make it so good, 's much better."

A hand gently tilts his chin up, kissing him on the forehead before he plunges in again. " _God_ ," His partner groans. It makes his heart leap, because the guy's usually so quiet. "You're doin' _great_ , you feel so good."

God he's close, so close his vision goes all spotty and he's seeing stars again. " _Please_ ," He whimpers, pushing into the hand and wiggling his backside against him. "Fuck, please, _please_ ,"

He can feel the guy push in deep again before he goes tight around him. His partner curses, hands pawing at the desk below the two of them, cumming inside of him and feeling the emptiness of it when he pulls out. The stuff's so warm, easing the loss of it a bit when he closes his legs and falls back against the desk.

"Jesus, _fuck_." He mumbles, slinging his arm across his face and hearing the laughter of his husband, leaning over him to kiss at his face again until he uncovers it. He pulls him in closer, causing the poor guy to stumble and barely managing to catch himself before he falls ontop of him. His handsome face hovers just above, and he kisses him sweetly again with what breath he's got left. "I'm fuckin' exhausted, but holy shit, Sam!" He laughs. "That was _incredible_!"

"Awh, shucks, lil' pal," He chuckles, pulling himself upright. "You're makin' me blush. I'm glad ya enjoyed yourself."

He giggles. "I'd kiss ya silly if I could move."

Soft and firm hands run across his stomach, massaging at the sore muscles. "Just relax, love, we'll go cleanup whenever you're ready to." Gentle hands pick him up, carrying him to the couch and carefully setting him down. "Feel better?"

He knows just as well as he did in the midst of it; he knows he married the right guy. "Yeah, yeah you're absolutely _magical_." Knows he loves him so much it aches.

It doesn't hurt so bad anymore, Sam's touch somehow enough to keep it at bay. Long enough to pass out, anyways, better than he's felt in _days_.

His husband carefully lays his head atop his stomach, nuzzling at the fur there as Max runs his fingers through his fur. Doesn't hurt, really, a dull ache in his middle that always follows afterwards. But he can't say he doesn't relish it, purring in the aftermath as Sam drifts off ontop of him, curled up besides him and pulling Max in close.

He definitely ain't going anywhere anytime soon, and he can't say he minds it. He'd stay like this forever if he could, and he has every intention to.

When his partner drifts off, he kisses the top of his head. "Goodnight, Sammy, sleep well."


End file.
